For Every Good Memory
by Helen C
Summary: Ryan's relationship with his brother was too complicated to talk about.
1. Chapter 1

Title : For Every Good Memory

Author : Helen C.

Rating : I'd say R (M) for language, but of course, I suck at rating stuff.

Summary : Ryan's relationship with his brother was too complicated to talk about—a series of five drabbles that are too long to actually be called drabbles, so perhaps I should say, a series of five very short stories.

Spoilers : Everything up _to The Dearly Beloved_.

Disclaimer : The characters and the universe were created and are owned by Josh Schwartz. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Many thanks to Joey51 for her help on this.

* * *

**For Every Good Memory**

Helen C.

**1.**

Ryan wasn't oblivious, he just pretended to be.

Perhaps the whispers and the curious looks would stop, if he ignored them.

His mom had told him that Chino was their new chance, that they needed to fit in and that he couldn't get into trouble.

_"…father…"_

_"…store…"_

Most of the kids at school ignored him. Ryan wasn't the first kid to transfer in the middle of the school year; a new face was nothing unusual around here.

_"…jail…"_

_"…killed someone…"_

Unfortunately, a few of the older kids seemed to think that it was their job to remind Ryan of "his place." Ryan didn't know why they had taken such an immediate dislike to him, but he knew that fighting with them would only cause more problems, so he kept his temper in check.

………………………………………….

Ryan was more than willing to do his part to help the family fit in, even though he didn't understand why his mom was so convinced that Chino would be kinder to them than Fresno had been.

But when three of the school's troublemakers cornered him in an alley after school, he clenched his fists and fought back, because he was an Atwood, and Trey and his father had told him that Atwood men weren't sissies.

He didn't understand why these kids couldn't leave him in peace—from what he had overheard about their families, they didn't really have grounds to start judging Ryan's.

But reasons didn't matter—not in a three against one fight, not when two of the three had baseball bats and the third was about twice Ryan's size.

Ryan knew how to defend himself, but they were stronger and more experienced than he was, and soon he was on the ground, protecting his stomach and his head as best as he could, like Trey had taught him. He saw one of the baseball bats travelling at an incredible speed toward his head and he closed his eyes, bracing for impact, gritting his teeth fiercely, because these assholes would be glad if he screamed and he didn't want to give them that pleasure.

The impact never came.

Ryan opened an eye cautiously, to see Trey and two of his friends taking on Ryan's opponents.

The fight was brief. When it was over, Trey grabbed the leader's neck—a kid named Mike, Ryan remembered now—and slammed him against the wall. "No one messes with my brother but me, understand?"

Mike nodded. When Trey released him, he took a few hesitant steps before making a run for it.

"You okay?" Trey asked Ryan.

Ryan nodded, ignoring the sharp pain under his left eye.

One of Trey's friends kneeled next to Ryan and studied him a moment. "Fuck, Trey," he said at last, "I think they broke his cheekbone."

Trey clenched his fists as his friend added, "And he ain't even crying."

"That's Ryan for you, Turo," Trey said with an approving smile. "Fucker knows when to keep it shut."

Turo gave Trey an undecipherable look, then shrugged. "You should take him home."

Trey nodded, hauled Ryan to his feet and kept a hand on his arm all the way home.

………………………………………….

Dawn yelled at Trey for not keeping an eye on Ryan, and at Ryan for not even managing one lousy week in Chino without attracting trouble, and at the doctor when he gave Ryan a week off school.

Through all this, all Ryan could think about was the look of pride on Trey's face as he told his friends that his little brother didn't cry.

Nothing else really mattered, he decided.


	2. Chapter 2

Title : For Every Good Memory

Author : Helen C.

Rating : I'd say R (M) for language, but of course, I suck at rating stuff.

Summary : Ryan's relationship with his brother was too complicated to talk about—a series of five drabbles that are too long to actually be called drabbles, so perhaps I should say, a series of five very short stories.

Spoilers : Everything up _to The Dearly Beloved_.

Disclaimer : The characters and the universe were created and are owned by Josh Schwartz. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Many thanks to Joey51 for her help on this.

_Warning_ : This one might be slightly disturbing—at least, it disturbed me...

* * *

**For Every Good Memory**

Helen C.

**2.**

"Trey, please..."

"For fuck's sake, Ryan, let it go already."

Ryan swallowed past the lump in his throat and tried to control his breathing. He hyperventilated sometimes, when he got upset, and it always pissed Trey off. Now wasn't the time to "act like a girl," as Trey kept saying.

"That guy is weird," Ryan tried to explain. "That guy" being Steve, the latest of Dawn's boyfriends, and the creepiest yet. Ryan didn't like that he kept finding Steve in his room when he woke up at night; he didn't like the way Steve's hand lingered on his hair sometimes; he didn't like the way Steve stroked his cheek when Dawn and Trey weren't looking; he didn't like Steve's eyes; he didn't like Steve, period.

Trey snapped. "And that's why I'm leaving." He sighed and looked at Ryan. "You'd do the same thing if you were in my shoes." He stuffed two more T-shirts in his backpack, mumbling, "What am I saying, of course you wouldn't. Always so fucking noble, always busy saving someone." He turned his gaze to Ryan, who tried to hide his fear under a mask of indifference. "Toughen up, bro," Trey said, shouldering the backpack and making his way out of the room.

Making his way out of the house.

Leaving Ryan alone.

………………………………………….

Seven hours later, Ryan threw a fistful of dirt on Theresa's window, hoping she would hear him.

When Theresa opened her window, Ryan looked at her and tried to smile.

He hadn't stopped shaking since his mom had made it home half an hour earlier, just in time to go to her room and pass out. As soon as he had seen that Dawn was unconscious, Steve had motioned for Ryan to come near him, and when Ryan had warily complied, Steve had pulled him into a hug, squeezing his shoulders gently. Then his hands had travelled down Ryan's back, and when they had been about three inches from his ass, Ryan had snapped, pulled back and kicked Steve in the balls as hard as he could before making a dash for the door, never turning back.

Theresa took one look at Ryan and motioned him in. He tried to be quiet, but he must have made some noise, because there was a short knock on the door and Arturo entered. He didn't say anything upon seeing Ryan in his sister's bedroom, and Ryan deduced he must look as pathetic as he felt.

"What happened?" Theresa asked, making him sit on her bed.

Ryan shivered. "Trey left."

"Ryan…"

"And I don't like Steve."

"You don't like any of your mom's boyfriends," Theresa muttered, putting a hand on his shoulder. Ryan flinched away from her so quickly he almost fell off the bed.

"Sorry," he said, feeling oddly out of breath.

Theresa's face hardened. She knew what kind of scumbags Dawn brought home. Ryan knew that she'd put two and two together.

He smiled nervously, trying to relax.

"Why did Trey leave?" she asked.

"Because of Steve."

"And he left you alone?" she exclaimed.

Ryan shivered and clenched his fists. "I can't go home." As he thought about what Steve's reaction was likely to be, Ryan felt the blood drain from his face. "Steve would kill me."

Arturo shot him a worried look. "Stay here," he said. "I'll clear it with ma."

He left and Ryan wrapped his arms around himself. He flinched again when Theresa put her arms around him but she ignored his reaction, making him lie down. She was still holding him, and he was still shivering when he fell asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

Title : For Every Good Memory

Author : Helen C.

Rating : I'd say R (M) for language, but of course, I suck at rating stuff.

Summary : Ryan's relationship with his brother was too complicated to talk about—a series of five drabbles that are too long to actually be called drabbles, so perhaps I should say, a series of five very short stories.

Spoilers : Everything up _to The Dearly Beloved_.

Disclaimer : The characters and the universe were created and are owned by Josh Schwartz. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Many thanks to Joey51 for her help on this.

* * *

**For Every Good Memory**

Helen C.

**3.**

"This place is fucking incredible," Trey said, sitting on the sand next to Ryan.

Ryan nodded his assent. He still couldn't believe Newport, either. "Tell me about it," he said, thinking about the convoluted chain of events that led the Atwood brothers to this place, at this time.

Two years ago, they were smoking pot and trying to convince Dawn to ditch AJ.

Today, here they were, Newport's bad boy and Newport's newest ex-convict, and they had found a family that didn't seem to mind where they came from, that wanted to give them a chance.

Ryan wondered if Trey found it as incredible as he had, when he had first arrived here.

He wondered if Trey was as overwhelmed as he had been. As anxious to make it work.

He didn't know how to ask without sounding like an ass, though. He couldn't ask Trey not to mess things up for him, not after Trey had gone to jail partly because of Ryan.

Ryan had read about survivor's guilt, and sometimes he felt stupid, because there was no denying that he suffered from it.

Sandy joked sometimes that Ryan could do anything he put his mind to, so why not be a lawyer? "After all, you know where those kids come from. They'd listen to you."

Ryan had never had the heart to tell Sandy that he would never be able to defend kids like himself. He wouldn't be able to stand watching them get lost in the system, wouldn't be able to stand watching them go back to their families.

It would break his heart, and he had suffered enough.

He wouldn't be able to resist taking all of them home with him, and most of them would screw him over, and Ryan still wouldn't stop, because yes, he had this desperate need to save people.

Before Newport, that need probably came from the fact that he knew what it was to need help and not get it.

Now that he had been helped, now that he had been saved, he wanted to pay it forward, because he felt vaguely guilty when he thought about all these people who deserved help just as much as he did, and who no one ever thought about.

"This lawyer of yours, Sandy…" Trey started, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

"Yeah?"

"He… Why did he…?" Trey swallowed and met Ryan's eyes. "He didn't make you do anything you didn't want to, right?"

Ryan took a moment to understand what Trey was asking him. When he did, the answer came out, fast and loud, like a gunshot. "No! Never."

He bit back an angry comment. Trey had left him alone with Steve, even though he knew as well as Ryan did that the man was bad news, and here he came, thinking that Sandy was the same kind of man Steve had been.

"Sorry," Trey said. "I just… I was worried, and there wasn't anything I could do about it, and I knew no one was here to watch your back."

"Not the first time there wasn't anyone around to watch my back," Ryan snapped.

Trey flinched and closed his eyes, and Ryan would have loved to think that this was an act, that Trey was acting more upset than he was to make Ryan feel bad, but Trey wasn't like that.

"Sorry," he said.

"Don't," Trey said. "I shouldn't have left you there with him."

"It's done." Ryan shrugged. Trey had been young then, and put in an impossible situation, and had dealt with it the only way he knew how.

"I'm glad," Trey said.

"For what?"

"That you found a family that was worth it."

Ryan looked at Trey, studying him, but Trey seemed sincere. Ryan relaxed slightly. "Thanks."

There was a short silence, then Ryan offered, "They'll give you a chance too, you know."

Trey scoffed, "Yeah, right."

"They will," Ryan insisted. "They're worried, but they will. They're like that."

"I don't get it," Trey said.

Ryan could sympathize. Even after two years, the Cohens still baffled him. "Neither do I. It's just who they are."

Night had fallen when the Atwood brothers finally made their way back to the house.


	4. Chapter 4

Title : For Every Good Memory

Author : Helen C.

Rating : I'd say R (M) for language, but of course, I suck at rating stuff.

Summary : Ryan's relationship with his brother was too complicated to talk about—a series of five drabbles that are too long to actually be called drabbles, so perhaps I should say, a series of five very short stories.

Spoilers : Everything up _to The Dearly Beloved_.

Disclaimer : The characters and the universe were created and are owned by Josh Schwartz. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Many thanks to Joey51 for her help on this.

* * *

**For Every Good Memory**

Helen C.

**4.**

"Don't look at me like that," were the first words out of Trey's mouth when Ryan went to see him in prison, _after_.

"Like what?"

"This wounded look, like I'm the worst disappointment ever, like I always screw everything up. I _know_, okay. I know."

Ryan sat down on the hard bench and clasped his hands on the table. He felt tired and sore and older than he ever had. It had been a long, hard summer, and Ryan didn't know how he was going to survive school this year, after everything that had happened. Was he supposed to find English lit. important, now that his world had crashed and burned around him?

"That's not why I came," he told Trey.

"Why then?"

Ryan tried to reply, but his words caught in his throat. Sometimes, he could still feel Trey's fingers squeezing his neck, choking the air out of him, bruising his skin—deep bruises that hurt and took weeks to disappear.

_I want to know why you hated me_, Ryan wanted to say. But that would have been a stupid question, because he knew why.

Ryan had always been Dawn's favourite.

Ryan had escaped prison and life in Chino, and even though the Newport snobs had never really accepted him, Ryan didn't have the word _prison_ tattooed on his forehead. _Bad boy_, yes, certainly. But not _ex-convict_.

Ryan had a new, loving family, and he had been scared that Trey was going to screw things up for him, and Trey must have felt Ryan's reluctance, and must have seen it as yet another rejection.

"I don't know why I came," Ryan finally said.

He wanted to tell his brother that he still wanted him in his life, but he was too scared of Trey's answer, too scared Trey would just tell him to go to hell. Atwoods were notoriously good at severing ties.

He wanted to ask his brother for forgiveness, but he wasn't sure he deserved it.

He wanted to forgive his brother, but he wasn't sure he did.

He wanted life to go back to what it was before, but wishful thinking was unproductive.

He didn't know what he could possibly tell his brother, after everything that had happened.

"The first weekend AJ spent with us, he kicked my ass," Ryan said at last.

Trey looked up in surprise. "I remember."

Ryan smiled ruefully. "I mostly don't." The concussion had been a bitch to deal with; Ryan had suffered from migraines for about six months after that. He supposed he was lucky in a way—he hadn't suffered any permanent brain damage, and he was convinced that it had been a close call. The fact that he couldn't remember the whole week that had preceded the "accident" was enough to make him understand just how lucky he had been.

"That's probably a good thing," Trey said.

"I do remember, about a month later, I had a headache, and you came home just as I was throwing up on the floor. AJ was there."

Ryan looked up but Trey was working hard at avoiding eye-contact. "It's blurry, but I remember him yelling that he was going to teach me, and you coming to stand between him and me, and getting your ass kicked so he would leave me alone. I remember you, screaming at me to leave."

Trey finally met Ryan's eyes. "I remember leaving you there," Ryan finished.

"Yeah."

"I think I mostly came to say I don't know."

Trey frowned. "You don't know what?"

"Anything. How to deal with this, what to make of what happened, how to deal with what comes next." Ryan rubbed his chin. He hadn't shaved in three days; the stubble was harsh against his fingers, comforting somehow. "I don't know anything."

"Okay," Trey said. "I… Me neither."

"I'll come back," Ryan offered. "If you want me to."

Trey mumbled, "I'd like that." Then, more clearly, "Will the Cohens agree?"

Ryan shrugged. "I'm here, aren't I?"

They didn't hug, barely looked at each other, and Ryan blinked back tears all the way from the visitation room to his car. But he still felt better than he had in a while.


	5. Chapter 5

Title : For Every Good Memory

Author : Helen C.

Rating : I'd say R (M) for language, but of course, I suck at rating stuff.

Summary : Ryan's relationship with his brother was too complicated to talk about—a series of five drabbles that are too long to actually be called drabbles, so perhaps I should say, a series of five very short stories.

Spoilers : Everything up _to The Dearly Beloved_.

Disclaimer : The characters and the universe were created and are owned by Josh Schwartz. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Many thanks to Joey51 for her help on this.

* * *

**For Every Good Memory**

Helen C.

**5.**

Ryan had never been good with words, had always found them woefully inadequate.

"My mom's boyfriend broke my arm" didn't even begin to cover the complexity of the situation, and of the feelings behind it. Neither did "My brother tried to rape my on-again, off-again girlfriend, and I tried to kill him, and he tried to kill me."

Ryan had always preferred mathematics and science to words and feelings. A scientific experiment was logical; it followed rules and procedures.

Human beings, on the other hand, couldn't be explained in a few words; expressing feelings in a few sentences reduced them somehow, and Ryan's relationship with his brother was too complicated to talk about.

Words like "betrayal," "anger," "bitterness," and "resentment," were poor ways to describe feelings, in Ryan's opinion.

………………………………………….

"I went to see Trey," Ryan announced.

Sandy froze briefly, his hand hovering over the grill. "Why?"

"I needed to figure some stuff out."

Sandy obviously wasn't pleased, but he was thinking and waiting until he had all the facts before judging, and Ryan loved that about Sandy.

"Did you? Figure stuff out?"

Ryan shook his head.

Every time he thought about Trey trying to kill him, he remembered that he had started the fight.

Every time he thought about Trey trying to rape Marissa, he thought about life in prison, and life in Newport, and how Ryan had been the lucky one, and how he could easily have become another Trey—bitter and resentful and violent and still hoping for a better life.

Every time he thought about Trey leaving him with Steve, he remembered Trey standing between him and AJ.

For every "No one messes with my brother but me," there was a "Toughen up, Ryan."

For every memory of Trey helping him, Ryan could think of a time when Trey had let him down.

For every memory of Trey screwing him over, Ryan could think of a time when Trey had defended him.

"I don't know what I'm supposed to do," Ryan admitted.

Sandy kept his eyes on the steaks as he replied, "He tried to kill you, Ryan."

Ryan breathed in sharply, feeling the phantom fingers squeezing his neck. "Yeah. He did."

"Will you be able to forgive that?"

Ryan sighed. "I don't know," he said. "That's the point. I… he's my brother, Sandy."

"He tried to kill you," Sandy repeated.

"I wasn't blameless in that."

Sandy finally stopped pretending being interested in what he was doing and faced Ryan.

"It's complicated," Ryan said.

"So you keep saying. Ryan… You know how I feel about keeping you from your family."

Ryan nodded.

"I don't like doing it, I don't want to do it, partly because you're seventeen and you should be allowed to make that choice, and partly because they're your family."

"I know," Ryan whispered. "I don't want us to fight over this, but I'd like to go see him sometimes."

Sandy sighed. "I'm worried," he said. "I don't know what you think about all this, I don't know how you're doing, and you scared me to death that night, Ryan. I'm still scared."

Ryan tried to apologize, but Sandy went on, "I want to go with you."

Surprised that Sandy was agreeing, Ryan nodded. "Sure."

"And I know it's difficult," Sandy added, "but I'd like to know why."

He turned his attention to his cooking again, and Ryan took the opportunity to study him. Sandy looked a lot older than he had at the beginning of the summer. He seemed more tired, almost defeated. He was also a lot more protective, as if he needed to protect his family from the world.

Ryan was tired too, and he really wanted to say, "I don't know how to explain it," and leave it at that.

But Sandy had held his hand in the hospital while the doctors stitched his back and bandaged his ribs; Sandy has stayed all night next to his bed, waking him and calming him down when he had nightmares; Sandy had forced him to accept a room inside the house, then had helped him to decorate it; Sandy had held him while Ryan sobbed uncontrollably for half an hour, after his mom had called and yelled at him for fighting with Trey. Sandy deserved better than, "I don't know how to explain."

He couldn't talk about his feelings, because words were failing him, and "Trey also did good things for me" didn't even begin to cover it, but perhaps there were other ways to explain to Sandy that Trey was a part of Ryan, a part of his history, and that he didn't want to lose it.

Ryan had to at least try. Sandy deserved the effort.

"Just after we moved to Chino," Ryan started, "I was coming home from school…"

FIN


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